glory and gore
by supernovas
Summary: "glory and gore go hand in hand." / snippets from a short-lived life. / winner of the monthly oneshot challenge at caesar's palace.


**glory and gore**  
catoclove

.

.

.

**i.**

The Annual Hunger Games—

It's a yearly tradition of Panem. Two children, one boy and one girl, are chosen from each of the twelve Districts to fight to the death in an outdoor arena. The last "tribute" standing wins it all - eternal glory, wealth, a house in the Victor's Village, and the ability to remain living. But they're also scarred forever and broken beyond repair.

Most children living in the Districts dread it, but not the children who inhabit District Two (Districts One and Four as well, but mainly District Two). To them, winning isn't everything. It's the _only_ thing. If they win, they'll bring pride to their District, to their families. And really, that's what it's all about - so, they'll do anything to be the last tribute standing; it's the only way to live, for them.

Most of them began training at a very young age. They were sent to the Training Academy to learn how to use weapons and defend themselves. (But not survival skills. Never did they learn survival skills - learning if plants were poisonous or camouflage skills were unnecessary, and for weaklings.) The children at the Academy were all very skilled fighters, all capable of ending someone's life in a split second. (Of course, at the Academy, they use dummies. Never real people. That's reserved for the actual Games.)

If a District Two tribute wins the Games, the entire District looks up to them. They're treated with more respect than even the elders, who were alive way back in the Dark Days. Everyone aspires to be like them, one of the Victors - the golden children.

But often times, District Two tributes are so focused on training for and winning the Games that they're oblivious to what's really important in life. They don't know what they're missing out on. Their entire lives are so centered around training to be the best that they sacrifice their entire childhood. They don't know how to appreciate the little things in life. They can never let someone into their heart, and when they do, they have no idea what to do - it's not what the purpose of their life is for, and letting somebody into their heart would ruin their hopes at being a Victor.

And that, right there, is the source of their downfall.

This is Cato's story. All eighteen years of it.

.

.

.

**ii.**

The day Cato is born, the sun is shining; it's a light shade of blue, and the lush field of grass is greener than it has ever been. His father tells his mother that it's a sign and Cato will grow up to do big things - great things.

He's like a warrior of some sorts; at least, that's what his parents like to think. He doesn't cry like all the other children. He's different. He's strong.

They know he's a fighter.

.

.

.

**iii.**

It's Cato's fifth birthday and he thinks it's the most important one of them all. His parents take him stargazing. They spread a picnic blanket on the grass and his mother has cupcakes. They have chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles—everything Cato likes—so he can't help but squeal like a little girl as he shoves one, two, three, four cupcakes into his tiny mouth.

They give him his present right then and there. He squeals again; his voice is really high-pitched and girl-like, but he doesn't care and no one else seems to. It's these ancient toys called Legos. Cato really likes them. He likes building things and pretending he's an architect but in the end all he does is tear everything he builds down, destroying anything that he could possibly create.

All the stars are brighter than ever that night. His father tells his mother that it's a sign and the sky is the limit for their little boy.

"Make a wish," his mother tells him, pointing to the shooting star that has suddenly appeared. Not wanting to let his chance slip away, Cato closes his eyes and wishes that this moment could last forever.

(Long live the good old days of innocence.)

.

.

.

**iv.**

The first reaping he actually pays attention to and remembers later on is the one when he is seven years old. (Let's just say that Cato is . . . rather _special_ and tends to only remember things like his birthday.)

He asks his irritated parents a ton of questions. There's lot of sighing and head shaking. A funny-looking lady from the Capitol with bright green hair and gold accents calls the name of a young girl, who trembles as she approaches the stage, only to be stopped by an older, stronger girl. The older girl looks overly ecstatic as she screams, with joy, "I volunteer!" and takes her place on the stage next to the weird lady.

The same thing happens again, but with the boys this time. The funny-looking lady calls the name of a boy who looks rather frail, but an older, stronger boy immediately replaces him.

"What are the Hunger Games?" he asks his parents. In previous years, he was not allowed to watch television for a few weeks in the summer and was always dragged to something called a reaping. He never really understood what was going on.

His mother purses her lips and shakes her head; Cato wonders if her head is going to fall off after all that shaking. He looks to his father, but he just takes Cato's arm and walks him home. He is told to stay in his room and his mother gives him cupcakes but all the cupcakes in the world aren't going to make him happy or tell him what the Hunger Games are.

Cato finds out in a matter of a week by sneaking out late at night to watch the television. He can't say that he finds the concept of the Hunger Games scary. Every night, he becomes more and more drawn to these Games. He thinks it's fun.

His parents never find out that he's been secretly watching the Hunger Games, but that's just how he likes it.

.

.

.

**v.**

Cato begins training at age eight. All that matters now is decapitating the greatest amount of dummies in the shortest amount of time. Cato's new philosophy is that things are made to be broken, so he goes out of his way to break everything he sees. It's exhilarating.

His days are spent fighting with swords and all sorts of other weapons. But he likes swords the most. He likes to pretend that he's a warrior from ancient times, fighting for his country (or, rather, _District)_. The trainers at the Academy deem Cato a child prodigy and say that he's going to grow up to do big things. Everyone looks at him with both envy and admiration.

People are saying that he'll probably win the Hunger Games one day, which makes Cato beam with pride. He trains harder than ever, determined to make the trainers and his District proud.

He's eight years old, and he's just getting started on his journey.

.

.

.

**vi.**

There's a girl with dark hair and green eyes who's a few years younger than him, but possibly better than he is. Her specialty is knives and she's really good with them, or so Cato's heard.

He's always watching out for other "really good" tributes; they might be possible threats. He challenges Clove one day, wanting to see how good she really is and if she's actual competition or not. "You're on," she says with a twinkle in her eye. Cato gulps. Everyone he's fought in the past, he beat in twenty seconds or less. And the people attending the Academy were all skilled fighters. He could even take down a few of the trainers, many of which were past Victors.

"Fine," he replies. "You're going down, Knife Girl."

The fight lasts longer than expected. Cato doesn't even remember that he's fighting a girl. She dodges every punch he throws. Every time he thrusts his sword at her, she retaliates immediately by throwing a few knives at him. She's scarily accurate with her knife throwing.

The trainers always warn the pupils not to kill their opponent, just to "kill" them. Basically, they're supposed to disarm them, knock them to the ground, or get them to surrender. That way, there are not many major injuries at the Academy.

Many times, Clove has come very close to beating Cato (not to mention injuring him — those knives are sharp!). He's sweating buckets and he's tired but he can't stop. He can't lose to a girl.

An hour later, they're still fighting, neither one willing to back down. A rivalry has formed. Finally, a trainer walks in and stops the fight, telling them that this has gone on too long and that the Academy is closing in five minutes. They're told to not fight each other again, much to the dismay of the both of them. Cato packs up his belongings and walks home solemnly.

He never fights Knife Girl again, but every time she sees him, she smirks.

Cato thinks she's annoying and tells her to "go die in a hole."

.

.

.

**vii.**

Before he knows it, he's twelve years old and is finally eligible to be reaped.

The day of the reaping, Cato puts on his best suit, wanting to look professional, polished, and organized. There's a spring in his step as he checks in and makes his way over to the twelve-year-old section. He's obviously the strongest out of all of them, there's no doubt about it. He holds his head high and puts on a dazzling smile.

He sees the other twelve year old children, most of which who are shorter and weaker than him, and is thankful that kids volunteer each year so that these poor children don't have to participate in the Hunger Games.

Their escort dyes her hair every year; this year, it's hot pink. Her voice is nasal, high-pitched, and really annoying. Cato fiddles with his tie until she finally gets to the good part. The escort picks a name out of the girls' bowl. Someone is quick to replace her, as always.

Next are the boys. He really wants to volunteer but knows that Districts One and Four will probably be sending older and more experienced tributes than him, so he keeps his mouth shut and his feet rooted in place when an eighteen year old boy volunteers. He's pretty strong and definitely stands more of a chance than a twelve year old, even though said twelve year old is from District Two and is very skilled with weapons. Cato tells himself to volunteer when he's eighteen.

He sees Clove on the sidelines, as she is still too young to be reaped. She sticks her tongue out at him. Cato decides to ignore her. He can't let distractions get in the way of his future victory.

_Six more years,_ he thinks. _Only six more years._

.

.

.

**viii.**

Shortly after that reaping, his parents find out that he's been training for the Hunger Games. Apparently some kids at the bookstore his father runs were talking about how Cato was so going to win the Hunger Games once he volunteers at the age of eighteen.

They actually aren't too mad about it. There were a few tears shed, and complaints of, "I wanted you to become a doctor or start your own company or something," but in the end, his parents were on board with it. His parents had never trained for the Hunger Games; his mother is a doctor and his father runs a bookstore, as mentioned before.

He's really sacrificing his studies for this, but it's not like he had any brains in the first place. Something must have really messed up when his mother gave birth to him, because he doesn't have any of the smart genes that his mother possesses. All he has is brawn.

(Really, that's all you need to win the Hunger Games. Or not. Damn those idiots from Three.)

.

.

.

**ix.**

Cato is fifteen years old and isn't exactly happy about the fact that he still has to wait three more years. He's not exactly improving and hasn't even been allowed to fight Clove, whom he considers his biggest competition. Clove's now eligible to be reaped and she doesn't seem to be too happy with the fact that she has to wait as well. _Sucks to suck,_ Cato thinks, never daring to say it to her face.

The boys and girls at school have begun to pair up. There are dances and boys are asking girls (and vice versa). Cato has his own fangirl following but doesn't really_ like_ any of them. He tries not to look when he sees couples making out; it's disgusting.

The truth is, Cato doesn't really know what love is, or how to love. He knows maternal and paternal love, but that's different. He's his parents' son, so why wouldn't they love him (and vice versa)?

Cato doesn't want to get too attached to a girl. Falling in love will only lead to heartbreak. He can't fall in love. It would distract him and his eyes would wander away from the ultimate prize. No, Cato cannot love. He must not love.

At night, a girl with dark hair and knives in her hands always seems to come into his dreams. When he wakes up, he's always smiling.

.

.

.

**x.**

He's eighteen now and the big day is finally here. The morning flies by in a flash. Cato doesn't really remember what outfit he was wearing or what token he took with him. He was way too excited to remember anything.

As he walks into the town square, everyone's staring at him. "He's volunteering this year," he hears a boy, probably around twelve or thirteen, tell his friend. Cato puffs his chest out and flexes his muscle. He swears, a few girls sigh contently and faint right then and there.

This really is the life. He's going to win the Hunger Games and bring pride to his district. He's going to move into the Victor's Village and live happily ever after. Everything he's ever wanted is just one reaping away. (Well, after the reaping, there's training, interviews, and the arena.) Cato's going to win. He smiles as he checks in and goes to stand in the eighteen year old section. He towers over all of the other guys, which makes him feel even prouder of himself.

The funny-looking and funny-sounding escort decides that this year, she's going to choose the male tribute first. Cato smirks. It's his time to shine. Before the escort can even finish reading the name of the male tribute—who was probably a frail little twelve or thirteen year old—Cato screams, "I volunteer!"

He runs up to the stage and tells the escort his name. She looks a little frazzled and mutters something along the lines of, "You're supposed to _wait._"

Cato rolls his eyes. The escort moves on to the girls. Cato sucks in a breath and prays that the girl who volunteers will be weaker than him. This time, the escort doesn't even begin to say the chosen tribute's name when a girl volunteers. Her voice is sharp and commanding. She hails from the fifteen year old group.

The girl has dark brown hair and green eyes. Cato's eyes grow wide when he realizes that she's _Clove._

He feels dizzy and can barely hear the escort as she announces the two tributes for District Two. They're forced to shake hands and Clove grabs his hand firmly. "It's time for a rematch," she whispers.

"You're on."

.

.

.

**xi.**

The days in the Capitol pass by quickly. They're dressed up as Roman-styled gladiators in the chariot rides but those brats from Twelve decide to light themselves on _fire_, hence stealing the show - it's not meant to be, the underdogs coming on top. The crowds chant the names of the brats from Twelve, and Cato decides that they're the first on his kill list.

The training center is more advanced in the Academy back home. Cato spends those three days slicing around with his sword and trying out other weapons as well. He tries to show the other players' his strengths and make them fear him. Most of the other tributes are rather weak so he isn't that worried, but there's always those two from Twelve that he needs to watch out for.

Clove spends most of her time at the knives station, also wanting to show off her skills. The two of them are actually getting along quite well. They're allies now, rather than rivals. But alliances are only temporary. They're not friends, just allies.

The Capitol food is delicious and Cato has to resist the temptation to stuff his face with food. He knows that he needs to be strong and healthy before the games. The lavish food is only for the outlying tributes, to fatten them up a bit for the Games.

Interview day comes around and Cato acts perfectly vicious and menacing; he tells Caesar that he's ready to fight, to win this thing. Clove high-fives him afterwards and actually smiles at him. He stares at her for minutes afterwards without even realizing it. She looks beautiful tonight. They groan in sync during Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's interviews. They're disgusting. There's no room for star-crossed lovers in the Hunger Games.

He spends his last night in the Capitol tossing and turning. No matter how much he's trained, he still doesn't know exactly what to expect in the arena.

.

.

.

**xii.**

Cato's standing in his tribute tube, his heart pounding loudly as he's lifted into the arena. He surveys the area; it's basically a large forest. There's a lake and he knows that his group, the Careers, have to get there first.

He mentally goes over his strategy for the next fifty or so seconds. He makes eye contact with Clove, who nods towards the Cornucopia. They both position their feet and get ready to run.

_10._ Get ready._ 9._ Come on, Cato. _8._ You can do this. _7._ Bring pride to your District. _6._ Kill as many people as needed. _5._ Make it home. _4._ Don't give up. _3._ This is your moment._ 2._ You've been waiting for this all your life. _1._ Win. _0._ Run.

.

.

.

**xiii.**

He makes a mad dash for the Cornucopia. He's easily faster than all the other tributes, even Marvel and Glimmer from District One. Once he reaches the Cornucopia, he grabs his sword and a few sleeping bags and backpacks. Clove reaches the Cornucopia second and quickly grabs her knives.

Cato scans the area, trying to find new victims. He doesn't even feel pity or guilt when he slashes innocent tributes' heads off. He finds it hilarious. He touches the blood on his sword and begins to laugh. He knows that if this were a movie, he would probably be the villain, but in this case, the villains usually win. No one decent ever wins the Hunger Games.

As the number of kills stack up, Cato laughs harder and harder. All the blood, all the deaths—it's not gross. It brings him glory. He's going to kill his way out, because it's the only thing he knows how to do.

After all the tributes are either dead or have run away into the forest, Cato meets up with the Career pack and Lover Boy. (Technically, he's part of the pack now.) Cato still doesn't really trust Peeta; after all, he came from the same District as Katniss Everdeen. Then again, he could help lead them to Katniss, who was the biggest threat to the Careers at the moment.

There are eleven deaths and he was probably responsible for more than half of them. When the faces are shown in the starry night sky, Clove whispers, "They could've had amazing lives." She looks like she's about to cry but doesn't let the tears fall out.

Cato ignores her. If Clove was going to cry over the deaths of people she didn't even know, then she didn't deserve to win the Hunger Games. He knows by now that anyone with a heart can't win the Games. That's why his is made of stone.

He takes first watch and stares at the million stars in the sky. Cato knows the stars they see in the arena are fake and generated by the Gamemakers but that doesn't stop him from making a wish as a fake shooting star appears.

"I wish I could survive the Games," he says out loud. The odds are pretty much in his favor, but you never know.

Next to him, Clove rolls over in her sleeping bag and snorts.

.

.

.

**xiv.**

They're so close to killing Katniss Everdeen but she climbs up a tree, a tree that Cato, Clove, and the other Careers are incapable of climbing. (Hey, he still thinks that it's better to have lots of muscle and weigh more than be able to climb trees and weigh less.) Lover Boy tells them that she'll have to come down eventually, so they all go to sleep.

The next morning, he wakes up to a buzzing sound. He feels a sting on his neck and looks up to see an entire swarm of tracker jackers surrounding them. Cato knows that this is Twelve's fault and she is going to _pay._

"Run!" he tells everyone who's listening. They run for the lake, the tracker jackers at their heels. Cato hears a cannon, followed by another one; it's probably Glimmer and the District Four girl whose name he keeps forgetting. The remaining Careers make it to the lake safely. He's only received two stings. One is on his neck and another is on his ear, from when he was running.

Lover Boy runs back to where his precious little Katniss Everdeen is and tells her to run. Cato's right on his heels. She gets away and Cato realizes that he was protecting her all along. He's never really understood love, but right now, he knows that he hates it.

He grabs his sword and cuts Peeta's leg, his upper thigh, to be exact, mercilessly.

Cato's going to kill District Twelve. End of story.

.

**.**

**.**

**xv.**

There's an announcement telling the tributes that two can win, if they're from the same District. He and Clove exchange a glance. They can both go home now. It only makes sense, since they're the two strongest and most skilled fighters in their District. The only thing stopping them is the brats from District Twelve. And Thresh from District Eleven. Oh, and they can't underestimate the girl from Five.

They're the only two Careers left and things are pretty awkward. They're arguing over every single little thing. Cato wants to kill her right then and there, but knows that his District would never forgive him for it.

He reminds himself that they're only allies, not friends. (Or even worse, lovers.)

There's going to be a feast with the things that the tributes desperately need. _Armor,_ he thinks. They're warriors, and they need armor to protect themselves from Katniss and her lethal bow and arrows.

After a long discussion, they have a plan. Clove would run to obtain their backpack while Cato would scout the area for any tributes hiding nearby.

The day of the feast, everything's going according to plan until he hears a scream. "Cato! Cato!" His heart stops beating because that voice belongs to Clove and she's _in danger._ "Clove!" he yells. Cato sprints towards her but it's too late. Thresh has already smashed her skull with a rock. Cato grits his teeth and decides not to fight him now. He'll get his revenge later.

"Stay with me," he begs. "Stay with me, Clove." But it's futile so Cato just strokes her hair and tries not to cry.

"Cato . . ." she manages to choke out. "You have to win. For me. For us." Cato nods. "I always loved you," Clove says, smiling. "You do know that, right?" Before Cato can respond, the cannon sounds.

He starts sobbing uncontrollably now. He walks away because it's too painful to see the hovercraft come in to lift her body away. She's gone. She's dead and she's never coming back. He could've saved her.

That night, he tells her picture in the sky, "I love you." But it's far too late.

.

.

.

**xvi.**

The girl from Five dies soon enough and victory is just within Cato's grasp. He knows there'll be a twist. There's _always_ a twist. Sure enough, these horrible creatures of the Gamemakers' creation find him and chase him for what feels like eternity. His lungs feel like they're about to collapse, but he knows that he can't stop running, no matter what.

There's one particular mutt with silky dark brown fur whose piercing green eyes seem to bore into his soul. It's rather small but vicious and menacing nonetheless. Cato doesn't even have to look at the collar to know who it is.

She seems to be asking why, why, why, and he really doesn't know what to do so he just runs, letting his legs carry him towards the Cornucopia, where he'll hopefully reach safety—

He runs into The Girl on Fire and Lover Boy who look as scared as hell, so the three of them run from the mutts. There's a quite brutal fight on top of the Cornucopia, resulting in Cato falling to the mutts, who attack him and tear his body (and soul) into shreds. It lasts for hours and hours until Cato can't even feel anything anymore.

He looks at the starless sky. There's no wishing stars in this arena anymore. There's nothing left for him to hold onto. Cato thinks back to the golden days when the Hunger Games was something totally irrelevant and life was all about cookies and cupcakes. It was so much easier back then. He had everything back then, but has nothing now.

He misses laughing and not having to worry about his future. He misses the sun beating down on him as he kicks a soccer ball around in the grass. He misses his childhood. He misses his _life._

Everything's . . . gone.

(And when you have nothing, you have nothing to lose.)

So when he says, "please," he's not sure if he wants Katniss Everdeen to end his life quickly and get rid of the agonizing pain or keep him alive for a while longer. (It's probably the former.)

She positions her arrow, and shoots.

Everything moves in slow motion as Cato realizes that these are going to be his last few seconds on Earth. The arrow flies towards him, and he sees this bright explosion of colors. Cato tries to remember everything worth remembering about his life. Memories flash before his eyes — there's his fifth birthday, the reaping he attended when he was seven, beginning training when he was eight, fighting Clove, his first eligible reaping, and much, much more.

He's about to die but he's not exactly sad. He'll be with Clove again. They'll be reunited in the afterlife.

Some warrior he is. He couldn't save Clove, much less himself. The armor's fallen. Cato's fallen. The Games broke the image of a strong boy who was basically fearless. But that's what the Hunger Games do. They play with your emotions, your heart and your mind until you don't even know what's going on anymore.

Cato understands now. He understands everything now. But it's much too late.

And, as the arrow pierces his heart, he realizes that he had been denying his feelings for Clove for such a long time. But he never gave _Cato and Clove_ a chance. He was so wrapped up in winning the Games, in bringing pride to his district that he forgot about all other things.

_Pride. Arrogance._ Those are his flaws. The Games ruined him — he can't go back and change the past now.

The last thing he sees before he dies is her face.

* * *

**notes |** for the monthly oneshot challenge at caesar's palace. title taken from the song of the same title by lorde. that song describes the hunger games perfectly. lily (indie misery) actually introduced me to the song and gave me ideas for the title.

i don't even know what this is, but it's the longest one-shot i ever wrote and i spent a lot of time on it, so please review? i welcome concrit with open arms. :)

thanks to nina, jo, and clara for beta-ing!

catching fire broke me - what about you?


End file.
